


Sun King

by Confuzledsheep



Category: Granblue Fantasy (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Established Relationship, Flashbacks, History, M/M, Mentions of underage drinking, Past Relationship(s), Reminiscing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-26
Updated: 2019-08-19
Packaged: 2020-07-20 10:18:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 7,687
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19990516
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Confuzledsheep/pseuds/Confuzledsheep
Summary: Six finds something Siete doesn't want him to see, and suddenly, the treads of the past start unraveling.(Sequel to Midnight Wind)





	1. The Journal

**Author's Note:**

> Hey everyone! Ready for a very long and potentially boring ride? Cool!
> 
> I decided to uh. make Siete's whole backstory bc very little of it was actually given to us!!!
> 
> This is a sequel to [Midnight Wind](https://archiveofourown.org/works/19782844) so if you have yet to read that please check it out!

“What’s this?”

Six’s question made him turn around, arms full of books- lose papers crammed between the pages. “Hmm? Probably another-”

_ Fuck.  _

He thought he would never have to see that damned thing again. 

It looked like everything else he had in his room- old, worn, and well-loved. The leather on the spine was cracking, embossed patterns long deteriorated. Pages stuck out and weird angles, ripped and folded. 

“Here, give me that-”

“Who is Samson?”

“An old friend- now, If I could take a look at it-” Siete reached out to grab the book, panic rising in his system. He couldn’t even remember what was  _ in  _ that damned journal- he just knew he  _ couldn’t let Six have it.  _

That made Six instantly suspicious. “I’m not stupid enough to believe your lies-”

“Says the man who can’t remember the name of his savior-”

He wasn’t thinking. Neither of them really were. He didn’t even  _ care  _ what he said at that moment- even as Six’s face twisted into something impossible to describe- a mix of sorrow, horror, and fury.

The book was chucked into his face and Six was gone before he could even comprehend what had just occurred. 

With a sickening thump, the journal landed at his feet. 

He didn't want to look at it.

He never wanted to see that past again. 

\------

Everyone noticed the falling out. No one cared to ask about it. 

Lover's spats were not uncommon on the grancypher, and while they hadn't fought in nearly a year, disagreement was inevitable with them. 

Not even Anre bothered to comment on it as he ate in silence with Six. 

"Haven't seen many missions, have you?"

Shaking his head, he kept his gaze to his food. 

"A shame- Siete will be sent out in a day or so, if you wish to say your typical farewells."

Grunting, he was pretty sure he got his point across. 

Siete didn't deserve forgiveness until Six got an apology- or he figured out the deal with that fucking book. Whichever came first. 

\------

Something had been tugging in the back of his mind the entire time. Some morbidly curious part of him had been practically  _ begging  _ for him to get his hands on that damned book- regardless of what it said. 

Curiosity. That's all he chalked it up too. Even as his feet seemed go move on their own, carrying him to Siete's now empty cabin. 

The door didn’t even creak as he pried it open.

Siete had left in the wee hours of the morning- being shipped out with a few other warriors to gather materials for the captain. 

The sheer number of knights on the ship baffled him- how many wandering knights could possibly exist on these islands?

But that is not what he came to question. He wanted that Journal. And he wanted it now.

Finding the damned thing proved to be only a minor issue- Siete had a habit of hiding things in his bed- and as Six lifted the corner of the mattress, he was proven correct in his assumption.

It was heavier than he first assumed, now that he could handle it freely. Hundreds of pages were bound in that thing- perhaps even more than that with all the loose paper. 

Upon closer inspection, Six found something strange on the cover.

The remnants of a gold-embossed crest. 

A crown sat on a wreath of laurel, hovering above the outline of a shield. There appeared to be four quadrants- but he couldn’t make out what was in them. 

Holding the book close to his chest, he pulled his cape around himself. Putting everything in its rightful order before leaving- closing the door without a sound. 

\------

“Ah, Six! What a pleasant surprise- Please, have a seat!”

It’s times like this when he cursed his mask- Johann was perhaps not the best at reading the mood, much too enthusiastic with Six’s request to examine the journal. He took the young man up on his offer anyway. 

Placing the novel on the table, Six pushed it towards him. “What can you tell me about this thing.”

Tilting his head, Johann looked at the book. “I will try my best… Can I ask for assistance?”

“I don’t care.”

Reaching to grab the book, Johann nodded “Ah, If that is the case then I would like to review it with the assistance of Ceylan-”

Six smacked his hand away. “It will not leave my sight.”

Johann seemed slightly confused, if not frustrated, but knew better than to cross Six. “...I will fetch him then, please, wait here.”

The scholar took his time, leaving Six to stew in the comfortable leather chair. It seemed more fit for a rich man's study than a library, but he wasn't complaining. 

Soon Johann returned, bringing along a monocled young Erune with him. His ears were folded down like a kittens… or perhaps a dogs… how strange…

"What is it you wish for me to appraise? This here?" He asked Johann, motioning to the journal. 

"Yes. Ceylan, meet Six. He found this journal and he wishes for an appraisal."

The Erune nodded, humming to himself. "I see… may I take a closer look?"

Six nodded, keeping a sharp eye on the man as he opened the book, flipping through the pages. 

Good thing he was watching- Ceylan almost dropped the book to the table, as if the thing was made of hot coals. 

"Where did you get this?! This perhaps the last artifact left of that kingdom-”

Before the young man could even finish, Six had swiped the Journal from his hands.    


“...That does not concern you.”   


Six had turned and left before Johann or Ceyaln could get another word in. 

Storming down the hall, his mind was blank. He hadn’t felt like that since-

No. He wouldn’t dwell on that. 

Sitting on the edge of his bed, he opened the journal- flinching slightly as the leather cracked under the movement.

There it was.

Bright red ink- Stamped on the inner cover, in almost the color of blood, was the crest- No. It was  _ different.  _

The outline of the shield was the same- but instead of the quadrants found on the outer cover’s version, this one bore a single image.

A sword piercing the sun. 

Something fell into his lap that caught his attention.

Marked with a wax seal that matched the emblem on the inner cover, it was addressed to something that made his stomach sink through the floor.

_ Lover _

\------

Johann caught him in the dining hall, Ceylan following close behind him.

“Six, there is something we must discuss.”

The noisy room quieted significantly- something that made Six’s hair stand on end. “What.”

“We can discuss in my office. Follow me.”

There was nothing he could do but obey- The room practically silent by the time he had stepped out the large double doors. 

Ceylan seemed about to speak, but was silenced by Johann’s bristly mood- deftly navigating the halls to their shared study.

Swinging the door open, Johann motioned to the table in the middle of the room. Ceylan sat. Six remained standing- book in hand.

There was hardly a pause- Johann starting to speak even before the door was closed. 

“Six, you fail to realize how  _ Important  _ this document is-”

“What is it.”

“An account.” 

“Of  _ what  _ exactly.”

Johann seemed to be nearing his wits end- “Something we have hardly  _ records  _ of! The fall of Lamrelli was practically Overnight! And there have never been any recorded survivors, let alone  _ Documents!” _

A hand was placed on Johann’s shoulder, Ceylan stepping forward. “Six… we cannot force your hand, but we understand your wish for this to be done quickly. We can… Assist you here if you would like.”

Six was hesitant, knuckles white as he grasped the precious thing- Letters and all. “...What do you know about this… Lamrelli kingdom?” 

“Far too little!” Johann barked, before Ceylan squeezed his shoulder.

“Enough. To give a framework to that account you hold in your hand.”

A thousand things should be rushing through his head- but again, It was blank. 

So he sat. “...Tell me.”

Johann’s scowl remained, focus overtaking him as he sat. “Prosperous- that's what the old travelers’ accounts described it as. Decades ago it was the richest kingdom in the skydom- Although its proximity to Nalhengrande made it very remote. No one knows where its riches came from- The inhabitants claimed it was the from the sun itself.”

“However- those accounts are from 20 years ago. Nothing exists after that. Well. a few things do.” Ceylan interjected. “One account stands above the rest- a travelers journal that was found in a pawn shop a few years back.”

The scholar nodded. “It described what occurred roughly 10 years ago- the collapse.”

Six slowly pulled the book out, placing it on the table before him. “Go on. I don’t have all day.”

When did his heart start beating like this? When did he get this awful feeling down his spine? 

Johann continued. “It happened in a matter of months. According to the account, it started in the span of  _ Days.  _ The people of Lamrelli fully worshipped the sun, believing it to be the first king of the land, immortalized in the sky. In the capital, there lay a sword, embedded in the ground of the town square. It was an ancient, worn thing- but no matter how many centuries passed, it never rusted. It was believed that only the true king of the land could pull it from its sheath in the earth- to be blessed by the sun.”

Six nodded in response, following along to the best of his ability.

“It had remained there for centuries- but then suddenly, it was gone.”

Six realized he had a horrible, horrible feeling about that fact.    
“The city went into an uproar- harvests had been slowly declining for the past 15 years or so, and now the sword was gone- which meant something was truly wrong. The king, Alsakard, had no children, despite his respectable age and stunning Queen. All the disappearance of the sword pointed to was an illegitimate heir- as much as the King tried to quell these rumors. In fact, three days after the sword’s vanishing, he made a speech to the people, claiming there was no illegitimate heir or threat to the crown at all- Until a young man made his way through the crowd, yelling up at the king. It was not recorded what he said, but whatever it was, it greatly offended the king- so much so he addressed the young man directly- calling him a liar and claiming that if his words had value he could beat the king in a fight.”

The uneasiness grew within him. He had a thousand guesses at the moment, and he didn’t like a single one of them.

“I will note that the exchange is very… ill-described in the account, as the author wasn’t close enough to hear much. But that hardly matters for the rest of the story.” Johann added, before collecting his breath again. "The man and the king exchange words- the man throws his glove at the king as a symbol of challenge. The king dismisses him- until he reveals a glistening blade from under his tattered coat."

He was right. His worst fears were being confirmed before his eyes. What did this book contain? He ached to know. 

All he was really sure of was his knowledge of who the mysterious man was- the man who pulled the sword from the earth. 


	2. The Buried

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Siete spends a bit too long thinking about things long dead.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hooo boy it's. continued. somehow.

_ "Thou who dare challenge my rule shall die by thine own blade!" _

It echoed in his mind as the campfire sent sparks and ashes into the air. His intense gaze probably spooked many of his teammates, but Niyon was not easily bothered. 

"Your music has grown chaotic." She noted calmly, sitting on a rock beside him. 

"Tell me, has it not always been that way?" He wondered aloud. If there was anyone in the world who could smell the history under his skin it was her. 

"Notes. Overcast by your typical self. Like… a monster underneath the waves. It has breached your joyus tune- bringing up something quite awful- please do rid yourself of it before my ears bleed."

He couldn't help but chuckle as she scrunched her nose in dramatized distaste. "Don't know if it'll fix itself that easily Nio."

"Please use my full name- and is it due to Six? He seems to be the source of your most dramatic changes in tune."

The way he sank his head into his arms told her something different. "The thing with Six… is mostly guilt. I'm not mad at him or anything- you know that's physically impossible."

"True."

He couldn't lie to her- she could sniff those out like a damned hound- made talking to her a pain in the ass sometimes. But she was relentless with him- although her reaction was faked, her distaste wasn't. And eventually she would get the whole thing out of him. 

"Is it a story that you wish to tell, to calm your nerves?"

"...Not here."

"...I could respect that." She responded, using a stick to poke the fire. "Surprising that the fire's song is far more calming than yours."

Shrugging, he rose to his feet. "Can't help things sometimes- you should definitely know that by now."

"Oh, but you can. You can fix it and we both know it."

Something gleamed in her eye as she looked up at him that scared the living shit out of him. She was looking at him like she  _ knew.  _

"We have nothing better to do for the next few days- why not take a personal excursion. It's close by, anyway."

Before he could even sputter something out, she had risen to her feet, hovering towards the tents. 

He didn't even think to follow her until it was far too late. 

As reluctant as he may be to admit it, she was right. They were far too close to the fallen island. 

Far too close to the others. 

Why was he so defensive when Six found the journal? Why was he so panicked as to lash out and make such a disgusting comment? Was it because of his past? His sensitive history?

Or was it because it was Samson's?

Shaking his head, he adjusted his cape- Nio would know where he was. He would hopefully be back by sunrise anyway. He knew the forests around here by heart. 

It  _ had  _ to be the fact that it was all he had left of Samson. He was far too attached- although he had practically grown up with him. And Owen. Owen, Samson, and himself. 

He was drinking with them when it happened- they were young, so, so young. A few drinks. They were about to become knights after all- why not celebrate? 

There was laughing, a few tears, some heartfelt remarks- maybe some inappropriate banter between himself and Samson- and then conversation went to the fucking sword. 

Stumbling in the knight, Owen tried- tried with all his drunken might. But he was no match for the land and the metal. Samson tried as well, and Siete knew he was looking everywhere he wasn't supposed too as he did it. They were talking and laughing about their failures- Owen pressed him to give it a shot. Called him a coward a few times. All in good youthful fun. It was casual- disputing Owen's claim, attempting to impress Samson. A casual motion so unassuming it haunted him to that very day.

An easy motion- mimicking the drawing of a sword- he expected his hand to come up empty. 

But it didn't. 

It was as though none of them realized it in those crucial first moments.

The second they did they were sober. And no longer children.

Panic rose so high in his throat it might have poured from his ears. Looking between each other in the dead of night as cold iron rested in his hand- the most perfectly balanced blade in the world. 

And then they ran. 

Crashing through the streets, as far as their legs would carry them. Even as Siete pressed the blade against his chest, it wouldn't cut him. It refused to cut him- probably even to this day. 

Not like he could test that theory. 

They ran far. Almost entirely out of the city- to the small shack Samson's family had before they moved. 

They rested in silence- gasping breaths punctuating the air as they struggled to understand what had just happened. Siete never let go of that blade.

Now he was a little mad he did. 

But it wouldn't be wrong for him to take back what was rightfully his to begin with- some traditions were worth keeping. 

He only removed himself from his thoughts as he stepped into the clearing, the massive stone shining in the moonlight. 

The mounds were coated with wildflowers, as they rightfully should be. Both of them deserved such beautiful resting places. 

Standing in the grass, Siete frankly didn't know what to do with himself. He would have considered burying Samson's journal with him, but he couldn't bear to lose something so precious. 

How could he afford to bury Leone if that was the case?

Perhaps because it was the source of all his trouble to begin with. That was the best guess he could fathom at the moment. Every passing second made him desire to pull it from the earth with a mighty snap- he was sure it would still respond to him. Even after Lamrelli had fallen. 

…He wouldn't know until he tried. 

There was no reason for his team to stay here- may as well go up and find it with them. 

Hopefully they would be good with uphill hikes. 

\------

"Siete. I have a question."

Niyon's voice took his head out of the fog that surrounded them, making him pay actual attention to his body.

"Yes?"

"Why me."

That made him think. It was probably because he had known her the longest of every member of that team, and that definitely made things much easier. She knew how he worked, he knew how she worked. Easy. Simple. 

But that wasn't  _ entirely  _ the reason why he asked her to join him on the trek back to his past. 

"You don't run your mouth. And you have the most right to know."

"The only person that truly needs to know this is Six."

That made him stop his upward climb, chewing his chapped lips. 

"...No. He shouldn't know these things."

"Why not?"

"He. He doesn't like knowing about my past partners. And uh. There were a lot of them."

Nio didn't believe his shit for a second. 

Siete was a far more secretive man than anyone gave him credit for. He was such a good liar his fibs became truths in an instant. He shaped reality into whatever he damn pleased-

She had no idea why he didn’t abuse that ability. 

The only people stronger than him where their captains- and probably Octo. She could only wonder as to what motivated him. He could easily hold every ounce of power in the sky.

Siete suddenly stopped at an overlook, pointing into the clouds.

“There.”

Niyon blinked, looking out into the grey and white masses. 

“That’s where it used to be.” 

_ So Lamrelli was that close… _

Siete turned abruptly, continuing his hike.

Niyon was about to follow.

But before she looked away, she froze.

There was something beyond those clouds.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope y'all enjoyed it!!!!
> 
> please leave a comment or a kudo or swing by my [Twitter](https://twitter.com/ConfuzzledSheep), I means a whole lot to me!
> 
> see you in the next chapter!!!!!


	3. The Midnight Wind

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Before Six even knew what he was doing, the vines of the past had ensnared too many people for him to count.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wazzup I love eugen and he's wonderful and you should all use him in your teams ok goodbye

Six steeled his nerves, hand running through his hair as he stared at the book. 

Johann had finished his account- the document he had read ended with that scene, the rest burned away. Even as the two scholars were polite, not staring him down, he could tell they were growing impatient. 

"...I can allow you to read some, but not all of it."

"Have you read it?!" Johann snapped- his excitement was hardly coated by his frustration and impatience. 

"No- but… there are documents here I believe to be far too personal. Any letter addressed to…  _ " Lover"  _ must be skipped over."

Ceylan nodded, hand gently grasping for the journal. Six let him take it. 

"I can agree to those terms- we're only looking for the historical events anyway. We are in no rush to find the permanent truth."

Johann chewed his lip, but nodded he allowed Ceylan to give him the book, pulling out spare paper and a writing instrument.

Ceylan stood, turning to Six. "Would you like something to eat while he studies it? Perhaps something to read?"

It was certainly… kind of him to offer such a thing. "I do not need tea. I don't want to bother you."

"Would a book work for you?"

God, he hadn't had the chance to read a novel since he was a  _ child _ … before everything… happened. "...Bring me something you would recommend."

With a smile and a nod, the Erune was gone. Johann was already completely enraptured- scribbling down noted and muttering to himself. Six couldn't bear to look too deeply at it, not with the suspicions he had now. He would be happy with a basic outline of events.

Even as he waited for Ceylan to return, he found Johann's reading speed to be quite alarming. It seemed like he went through a page a second- hand moving as fast as his eyes. 

" _ Damn it-  _ I don't have that on me-" 

Johann's mumbling made him look up, ears perking. But right as the scholar was rising to his feet, an even larger book was placed before him. 

"To help translate." Ceylan said before smiling and presenting Six with a book. "This is supposedly from the kingdom of Lamrelli- I do quite enjoy the novel, I hope you do as well."

"Thank you."

"Let me know if you need tea or anything." Ceylan added. "I will return to my work- please don't be afraid to call upon me."

All Johann gave in response was a nod. 

Somewhere along the lines, the room fell into a comfortable silence. Six found the novel odd- the story of a man learning necromancy in order to revive a fallen warrior after falling in love with a statue of them. 

Perhaps Ceylan was trying to tell him something.

Hopefully he wasn’t. 

Perhaps after hours, far after the sun had vanished over the horizon, Johann stood. 

“...This will require much more study than I anticipated. Six, I have collected all of the loose documents for you- If you wish to take them, you can.”

“I marked where they were placed so we can restore the document to its former glory,” Ceylan added, dark bags already collecting under his eyes. “However, I would believe that its time for us to all turn in- stressing ourselves does nothing.”

That was a hard pill for Six to swallow, but he needed to step off a little. The historians had no intent to hurt him. No intent to hurt Siete.

He had gotten far too soft. 

Silently nodding, he stood, taking the loose papers with him. 

The door closed with a soft click, and Six felt a dread building in him he couldn’t describe. 

His feet moved before his mind did, taking him somewhere unknown as he pulled a letter from the pile, finger running over the softened edge of torn parchment. 

Swallowing back fear and regret, he opened a letter.

He couldn’t hide from it anymore. He couldn’t hide from what Siete came from- what he refused to say. Even as his blood ran hot reading the sweet words of Siete’s past lover.

It had to be the same person. The handwriting never changed, the same signature, verbal tics. 

Six was  _ raised  _ to find those sorts of things. To emulate them. Maybe he was just a replacement. If he was, he could be a damn good one-

Fuck. when did he start  _ crying? _

And when did the wind get so loud?

He was standing on the deck, letter unfurled in his hand as the wind whipped up his cloak, pushing the hair from his face.

_ Just like Siete would- _

No. he needed to banish that thought from his head. He needed to figure out what it  _ said.  _ Before it was far too late to do so-

"Ey. Why ya cooped up-"

As suddenly as Eugen started talking, he fell silent. 

Six shouldn't have been reading those letters on the deck- but the midnight wind did well to soothe his boiling blood. 

Every cursive word made his blood run hotter than the engines just below him. That writing should only be used for him- not this bastard. 

God. He was jealous. More jealous than he had ever been in his  _ life _ -

“Where’d ja get those letters from?” Eugen asked, sauntering over to Six.

“...Nowhere important.” Folding the letter back up, he moved to put it in his cloak with an uncharacteristic flourish. 

Something about it must have caught Eugen’s eye.

“All the way from Lamrelli huh? Must be an old letter.”

_ How the fuck did he know that? _

Eugen could see Six’s confusion, furthering his stupid chatter. “That crest, on the seal. It’s from Lamrelli. Never heard of it?”

Eugen's question was simple- a yes or no answer would suffice. But Six was not in a very reasonable mood at the moment- and he was sure his glare cut through his mask. 

"Hey. Easy."

Ah. He didn't scare Eugen that easily then. 

"...I've been there. That’s how I know. I've traveled to Lamrelli."

... _ What? _

\------

Six had never been in the Engineer’s office before. 

It was frankly a disaster- stuffed ashtrays on every surface, along with empty bottles of many substances- some far more alcoholic than others. Smoke clung to the ceiling and walls as the scent of tobacco and oil coated to every object.

In other words, he hated it.

Eugen motioned to the only thing in the room not covered in papers- a very stained armchair. While Six had sat in worse it definitely made him very uncomfortable. 

He took the offer anyway. 

Silently, Eugen offered Six a cigar.

He politely declined. 

Sitting at the desk, Eugen sighed, smoke pouring from between his chapped lips.

“I went there maybe… a decade ago. It was a land supposedly rich in metals, a wealthy culture ripe for the taking.”

Six noticed at how Eugen played with the wedding band on his finger, gloves discarded over an empty glass. 

“It was a standard trip- but we came at a bad time.” He said, releasing another puff. “Johann and Ceylan probably showed you my account.”

Six blinked, ears tilting back. Eugen was the traveler!?

“You wanna know how that journal got back here? I couldn’t tell ya.” Eugen said, motioning to Six’s cape, where the letters now hid, tied together with twine. “We arrived at the worst possible fucking time.”

“What- What happened?”

Eugen’s expression darkened. 

Six continued, voice growing stronger. “Why is the back half of your account burned!?”

The older man’s gaze turned away, looking out the window at the darkened sky. “...The sun… It went dark.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for reading!
> 
> PLEASE leave a comment or kudo or yell at me/send hate on [Twitter!](https://twitter.com/ConfuzzledSheep)
> 
> See y'all in the next chapter!


	4. The Pain of Remembering

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tensions mount as Niyon gets closer to the problem.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> these next few chapters are gonna be pretty short. I intend on keeping the current chapter-switching dynamic that I have, so shortening the chapters is the best way I can continue to do that,

Nio saw it. 

He knew she saw what lay beyond the clouds.

She saw Lamrelli. 

Or what was left of it. 

Fuck, was that  _ really  _ how he was going to remember what happened?  _ That's  _ what made him jog his memory?

"You're mulling over something awful- please do stop thinking of such erotic things. Your song is now stressed  _ and  _ horny."

Niyon's comment pulled a small chuckle from his throat, but nothing more. Not the belly laugh she would have gotten any other time. 

"It's growing dark- let's stop at the outcrop up there." Siete added, motioning to a strange jutting rock formation a few yards ahead. They packed ample food- Siete carrying much of the weight in a modest backpack. 

They had done far more treacherous missions with less. 

Niyon followed behind him, sitting on a rock beside him effortlessly as he collapsed. “What is jogging your flawed memory- do tell me. Not like there are many around to overhear.”

Siete couldn’t stop thinking about the scent of sweat, the feeling of bites on his neck, nails raking down Six’s back-

“Good skies I’m going to vomit if you continue!” Niyon exclaimed, face twisting into something soaked in disgust. 

That was how he fucking remembered. Embroiled in the searing heat of Six. He fucking remembered in the middle of sex.

If that wasn’t shameful, he didn’t know what was. 

His sight went white that night- and instead of seeing Six’s face when he opened his eyes, he saw it.

The sun.

But not the sun he knew now, so small and loving in its power and place. 

Lamrelli’s sun was very, very different. 

It took up half the sky on the worst days of summer, demanding the sweat of the people to water the earth. Legend says it was once like any other sun- gentle and forgiving.

The sun of his lifetime was a tyrant, through and through. 

Crops failed. People died. 

And then he went and ruined it all.

He truly became the sun during those fateful weeks…

A hard slap took him from his musings, Niyon radiating a fury he had never experienced before. 

“Stop keeping your thoughts to yourself. It infuriates me.”

_ You never much cared when I did it before. _

Another slap came before he could even voice anything. 

“I heard that!”

Cupping his burning cheek, he looked up at her. Leave it to him to completely forget about her ability to read thoughts, should such ideas be strong enough. 

“You’re far too quiet for someone so rattled!”

She was never this forceful, so loud- Composed, like the perfectly tuned strings of her harp. Now she was much like the warhorns that filled the land when- When he-

“Do you not trust us!? Do you collect allies as trophies!? Assemble the most powerful in the skies to stroke your broken ego?!”

She had a point, as much as he hated it. They weren’t trophies to him, they were dear friends-

“Then why do you accept such awful treatment by our hands?”

Siete must have been looking away, drawing his attention back to Niyon, finding tears dripping down her face. 

“What  _ happened  _ to you?”

It rattled him, sure. Filled his heart with a fog he couldn’t shake. But… he couldn’t find a satisfactory answer to her question.

Owen was a kind man whose smile was akin to the sun Siete now knew- vibrant and loving in its energy. Samson was the moon, so collected in his beauty and skill- 

God. He didn’t want to see them dead. 

Not even a  _ day  _ prior he was holding Samson in his arms, and they were wallowing in their victory- defiling the mansion of the man who oppressed them. They had never seen such luxuries in their life- and never in his life had he been more in love until that moment. It amazed him that he has since surpassed that love but… he could barely think of it. It pained him to defile Samson’s memory like that-

Another burning cheek, tears pouring down Niyon’s face as she brought her hand back down. “Why!? Why do you allow such jests and insults be thrown at you like paper?! We both know they cut like blades!”

He was silent again, Niyon’s frustration starting to reach a peak. 

“Why would I dare anger the most powerful people in all of the skies?”

That answer surprised her, temporarily quelling her anger, but doing nothing to completely relieve it. “You dare call yourself our leader and then allow yourself to be treated as such!? Have you no pride!?”

“No. Once, I did. I learned my lesson.” He motioned to the clouds, pointing to the patch of clouds where the wreckage lay. “And far too many paid for my foolishness.”

Niyon took a step back- she never walked on the ground, the mud clinging to her pristine white clothes. “Are you implying that-”

“Yes. We’re not going to the top of this Island. We’re going to Lamrelli.”

As he spoke, the clouds began to dissipate, revealing the hovering wreckage of the island he once called home. 

“The island you saw beyond the clouds.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> please drop a comment or kudo or yell at me on my [twitter!!!](https://twitter.com/ConfuzzledSheep)
> 
> see y'all next chapter!


	5. The Wreckage

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eugen continues to turn the pages of his history.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> here's the first of the super short chapters... there may be a handful more of these, just please bear with me!!!

Smoke had poured into the air, Six’s ears tilted back as he watched Eugen try and find something- mumbling about journals and sketches the entire time. It was a miracle he could find  _ anything  _ in here.

“Ha! It still exists. Thank god, thought Ed took it for his own.”

“Who was Ed, a friend of yours?”

Eugen laughed as he took his seat again, pouring over the pages of the massive book, bound between wooden covers. “Fuck no, he was a lying cheat- you have your husband to thank for us kicking him out.”

“We’re not married-”

Waving his hand at Six, the erune couldn’t help but notice the gleaming wedding band on his finger. Perhaps it would be best not to press him about marriage. 

“Ah, here. That’s what it looks like now.”

Six tilted his head, trying to see what Eugen was talking about. Turning the book, Eugen dropped it before him, clattering onto the desk with a loud thud. 

The drawing took up both pages- loose color filling in sketchy lines. 

It looked like any island one would find in the skydoms- save for… a few things. 

Lamrelli had been ripped apart. 

Dozens of craters and holes filled the surface, a massive chunk was taken from the central mountain in the center of the land. Everything was painted a loose white, a shade of grey, inked black, or coated in red.

“Yep. It still floats there too- But we can no longer reach it.”

“W-why?”

“We ain’t the one’s supposed to be there.”

“Who is?”

Eugen raised an eyebrow. “Ya really gon ask me that?”

No. He didn’t need to ask. They both already knew. 

The only one who was supposed to be there was Siete. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed! 
> 
> please comment or leave a kudo or yell at me on [ twitter!!!](https://twitter.com/ConfuzzledSheep)


	6. The Horror

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> lmao this is probably the shortest of all the chapters

Nio shut up. 

She grit her teeth, Siete having proved her suspicions. “That doesn’t fucking matter. You’re a leader, are you not?”

He had never, in his 7 years of knowing her, heard her use such foul language. Was he really driving her to such extremes?

“Well, by title I am-”

Fists grabbed his collar, yanking him forward, forcing his gaze to lock with her wrath. “That’s not an answer.” 

“...No.”

“That’s not an answer either.”

He held his hands lowered, forced his shoulders to relax. He couldn’t do this again. He couldn’t let it get the best of him- this wasn’t the Siete they all knew and hated. 

This was the man he was supposed to be. 

A man that made Niyon’s face curl into something so horrified he feared describing it. 

“What’s that face for? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

Then it all went black. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> you know the drill please validate me here's my [twitter!!!!!!](https://twitter.com/ConfuzzledSheep)


	7. The Painful Truth

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> these short chapters are almost done i promise!!!!!!!!

Eugen crushed another cigar, eyes heavy as he watched the ashes pile up. 

“You wanna know how I met the damn kid, don’t cha?”

_ Took him long enough to figure it out… _

“Well. I have no fucking clue.”

Six scowled. What the fuck did that mean!? That wasn’t a fucking answer!

“You’re unsatisfied” 

“Obviously.”

Eugen lit another cigar. Taking out two glasses, he grabbed a random bottle from a shelf behind him, pouring them each a glass.

“I don’t drink.” Six said, taking the glass into his hand anyway. The amber liquid warped the dim lights, shining through the faceted tumbler. 

“Not when your husband’s out. I’d take it if I were you- I don’t know if he’s going to make it back-”

The sickening snap of glass shut him up. 

Eugen saw the shards, the whiskey and blood dripping from his hand. How Six hunched in his seat, the fury barely contained under that pure white cloak, lovingly stitched by hand. 

And he chose to ignore it. 

“He just woke up on my ship. I never brought him on. He didn’t know where he was either. I don’t think he started remembering until later.”

Fuck. Siete was so damn young back then- hardly a teenager. He hadn’t filled out yet, still lanky and awkward, stubble untamed as confusion and youth collided. 

“He left not long after- If he’s going back to Lamrelli, there’s little I can do to help him.”

More glass clattered to the floor, the chair screeching against the floor as Six stood, turning and leaving the room with little more than a scoff. 

The door clicked shut behind him. 

Extinguishing another cigar, Eugen sipped his lukewarm whiskey. Striking, the similarities between Apollina and Six. No surprise they were on a team together. 

Or maybe the captain just found the concept of a masked team amusing. Could very well be that. 

Something ached within him for another drag, the whiskey coating something at the back of his throat he couldn’t quite say to Six. Maybe he would find the courage later. 

If Siete made it out of this alive. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here! Looki! It's my [Twitter!!!!!!!!!](https://twitter.com/ConfuzzledSheep)


	8. The Black fields

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Flashbacks come at inopportune times.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I write this fic for like 3 ppl and I love them so fucking much thanks guys for enabling me

He saw it whenever he closed his eyes. 

Tattooed onto his eyelids, searing into his vision until it was the only thing he could remember anymore. 

It started with spots. Odd, black spots. No one could explain the objects blocking the sun- they seemed to be growing from the sun itself.

Most blamed the king. Few blamed the supposed heir to the throne. 

Life continued- crops were decent. Just as bad as they were in past years. 

It took them a week to realize the spots were growing. 

Siete could no longer remember how long until it all crashed down. Was it weeks? Months? Or mere days before the sun broke itself apart and rained upon the land? 

He didn't even remember the sunspots until years later. 

Closing his eyes as he looked out the window of the pathetic mountain shack, cursing Sierokarte to a horrific death. He saw the red sky. He knew something was wrong. He had no idea why she was trying to keep them out of it. 

He spent the rest of that vacation distracted by Sex and horrible jokes with Six. But the minute Six was asleep it all came back to him. The red sunrises, the black clouds. The sun changing from gold to burgundy as the smoke filled the skies, melding with the clouds and creating the black rain. 

Why. Why was he taking Nio back there with him? Why would he subject her to such a thing?

Why did he even want to go back in the first place?

It ate at his mind as the sun fell upon the land for the hundredth time in the eye of his mind. He couldn't stop it- a tragedy on endless repeat. 

Everything burned. Everything. 

The manor. The castle.

The prison.

Six probably didn’t realize- where that journal was written. Siete wondered how he got it out in one piece- he was so, so far away from Samson. Sheer on the other side of the island, if he remembered correctly. 

Fuck, every inch of forest was up in flames. The white ridges that now dotted the land were proof of that. 

Why was he even going back? What remained for him there?

White hot death?

Would he bring the sun back? Set it upon the world?

Would he have to climb that wretched mountain again? 

He would have to find out at some point. 

When he finally awoke. 

But he would not wake now. No. 

His mind was far too unforgiving. 

When he rose to his feet, still trapped in the dream, the sky was white.

Everything was black and white, like an ink drawing. One of the sketches Samson had in the journal.

He took Samson home once- when he confronted his mother, sword wrapped and strapped to his back. 

That was the last time his mother called out to him. 

She stood before him, empty fields of black wheat. He waded through the sea, not feeling a thing as her frozen form grew closer. Their house was an island, rippling grass the only thing in this empty world. 

Siete knew she said something, called out to him-

He could no longer hear it. 

That name meant nothing to him. 

Approaching her, he found that her voice sounded the same. Even after a decade, it was branded on the inside of his skull.

_ “Come in! Have you been eating?” _

Leave it to her to ask such a question… not like it would have mattered, she would just feed him anyway. She insisted he was much too lanky for his age. 

Dragged to the table, he felt no warmth from the hand at his wrist. 

When he moved. He swore he saw the brushstrokes of her body change, like he was in a painting. 

_ “You’ve been gone far too long! Here, have some bearberry pie-” _

“Mother.”

That made her stop. He never called her that.

“I need to discuss something with you.”

_ “You just graduated! You must celebrate! Speaking of, where is your uniform?-” _

“That’s irrelevant. I need you to answer something for me.”

She had never glared at him in her life, but skies, she got close.  _ “Sunshine, you can’t joke-” _

“Who is my father.”

That startled her.  _ “What do you mean? He’s in the woodshed-” _

“No. He’s not my father.”

_ “And what makes you think that-” _

The sword dropped to the table with a thud, the dishes clattering on the old wood.

He didn’t need to completely unwrap it- it’s radiance shone through the cracks in the bindings just fine. 

In the past, Samson sat beside him, his gaze trained on the blade.

Samson was dead and gone now. It was only him here. Watching her expressions roll through like the clouds of a storm.

She stared, the light piercing her eyes, burning itself into the back of her very soul. 

Her mouth fluttered open, just to close yet again. Grasping at something far thinner than smoke, slipping between her teeth. Why was he asking a question he already knew the answer to?

The once white room was filling with smoke. Everything was filling with smoke. The wildfires had grown out of control, eating everything in their path. 

Apparently, including him. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please feel free to comment or kudo or yell at me on my [Twitter!!!](https://twitter.com/ConfuzzledSheep)


	9. The Guest

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nio finds herself with an unlikely companion.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> double chapter release babey!!!!

He was gone.

Out like a light- Nio had no idea what came over him. Even as she sat over him in a nearby cave, watching the rain pour down- stronger than any summer storm she had ever seen. 

And she had seen far too many.

Even a few with him, rain pouring out the window of the in, smoke leaking between the floorboards from the tavern below. The owner thought they were lovers. They were too tired to correct him. 

“Where ya even from anyway?”

“Why do you ask.”

Siete shrugged from the bed, hardly bothering to look at her. “Curiosity.”

“Hm. Stay curious.”

He didn’t ask again.

It was maybe a year later when she let it slip- humming a song her mother once sang to her, the gravel road under their feet. 

“What’s that from?”

It was genuine curiosity- her mother spoke in a tongue she no longer knew. Even now she had never learned the tones and inflections of her people- as much as she desired to do so. She didn’t know where the song was from. It was a stretch to say she knew where she was even from. 

Siete didn’t press anything. Nio found herself singing far more tunes from her youth around him. Ones her grandmother sang when it rained, deep-toned melodies her uncle chanted for a good harvest. The one her mother taught her before she left that she claimed ‘would help her in the vast and horrid world’. 

That’s the one she sang the most.

Even Octo had heard her sing it.

And he heard her now. Sitting on his knees, as he tended to do.

In the same cave as her. 

Siete unconscious between them.

As the rain poured outside. 

Even through the perpetual mask tattooed on his skin, she could see the sadness in his eyes. He knew something she didn’t. And she didn’t know if he was keen on sharing it.

So he sat politely. As she sang.

No love came from her voice. No emotion could be poured into words she didn’t understand. 

He clapped politely when she was done. 

Something sank inside her gut, stomach heavy and twisting. It was too quiet now. She had gotten to used to Siete’s chaotic song to be long without it. It hurt her, more than she would like to admit. 

“Why are you here.”

Octo looked up at her, mane of white hair draping over his shoulders. “To take you to the ship.”

“May I inquire as to why that is necessary?”

Blinking slowly, Octo looked down, as if trying to find a reason to give her, an answer to shut her up and satisfy her burning curiosity. 

He came up with nothing of use. 

Crossing her arms, she sat before him, a stern look growing on her face. “You know something. Your song grows high-pitched.”

It was almost humorous, how stressed he became when she pressed him. How nervous he got when pressed to answer her questions. 

Betraying his blunt nature was not something he was accustomed to. “...I-”

“You what, Octo?”

“I- knew him.”

“Who, Siete?”

Octo’s eyes skimmed over the man’s body, as if ensuring Siete actually lay between them. 

“Yes.”

Nio rose to her feet, brushing herself off. “Well, if that is it, than take me back to the ship. It’s quite dreadful out here, do you not agree?”

“...We can’t just leave him here.”

She scoffed, summoning her harp. “We certainly can. Not the first time someone has done it, I’m sure.”

“No. We cannot leave this island.”

Narrowing her eyes, her gaze pierced through Octo. He was still sitting, having hardly moved a muscle. “Elaborate.”

“We’re trapped here.”

That made her snort, her own song growing irritated. “You said we were returning to the ship.”

“I did not. We are not returning to the Grancypher.”

“Then where are we going?”

“...To Lamrelli.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> please plz comment or Kudo it means so much to me!!!!! or hmu on [Twitter!!!!!!](https://twitter.com/ConfuzzledSheep)

**Author's Note:**

> Hope y'all enjoyed!!!!!!!! 
> 
> Please leave a comment or a kudo, it really means a lot to me! 
> 
> you can also yell at me on [Twitter!](https://twitter.com/ConfuzzledSheep)
> 
> See y'all next chapter!


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